


A Little Death

by thatviciousvixen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Addam's Family AU, All my French comes from the internet, Anal Sex, M/M, endearments are all i remember, my italian comes from two years of college italian, sorry if it's bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They will die for each other, one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Death

**Author's Note:**

> So usually I don't post things this tiny and smol as their own works, but I enjoy this! I mean it's not edited and probably garbage but hey. Nobody's perfect.
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com).

“I would kill for you, caro mio. I swear it.”

A delicate hand lifts from black silken sheets, pale and perfect as it strokes sweetly along Hannibal’s jaw. Will is laid on the bed as if arranged for his funeral; his head is cradled by a soft pillow, auburn curls spread out like licks of flame over the dark pillowcase. The hand not exploring Hannibal’s skin is crossed over his chest, palm cupped sweetly over his heart. He is perfect. Ready for his own viewing and then to be put in the ground.

“You’ve killed for me already,” Will reminds him, voice as soft and smooth as the silk beneath him. “A dozen times at least.”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of Hannibal’s mouth. He captures Will’s hand in both of his own, holding it still so that he might nuzzle tenderly into his palm. “I would do it again, tesoro. A million times more, if you asked me.” He would raze entire civilizations if Will asked it, just to see the sweet smile of approval on his face at the end.

At this Will makes a thoughtful sound, moving his arms to his side as Hannibal starts to unbutton his shirt. The fabric, as black as the rest of their home around them, slips open and falls to his sides to expose a firm, muscular chest riddled with scars. Hannibal gives a soft moan of delight, leaning in to lap at a dusky nipple. After he's paid his proper respects he moves down to Will's scar, nibbling along the raised pink flesh. Hannibal's signature that Will can never erase from his flesh. 

“Killing…killing is easy,” Will breathes, arching into the sensation. “Would you die for me, mon amour?”

At the endearment Hannibal looks up, eyes wide and dark. “Streghetto mio.”

Will looks down, smirking. “Mon monstre.”

Like the flip of a switch Hannibal goes wild with need. He divests Will of his clothing, only making it so far as to push his own slacks down before he’s slicked his length and pushed in with a frenzied quickness. “Passerotto,” he gasps, rutting into Will like a wild animal, delighting in the breathy sighs and delighted gasps that tumble from his husband's lips. “I would die a million deaths for you, all by your hand. I would plunge my chest onto your blade, press close until it sliced through my heart, and with my last dying breath I would beg to taste your sweet lips one last time.”

Will cries out, lily-white skin flushed with passion. “Hannibal! Ah, Hannibal, more, tell me more,” he demands, eyes fluttering shut and lips parted on a helpless cry. He takes his own length in hand, squeezing and stroking as he rocks into the man above him. The sheets below twist and slide, giving no purchase for their movements.

“I would lie underneath you and let you choke the life out of me,” Hannibal groans, pushing Will’s thighs up until he is bent nearly in half, the bed squeaking and protesting with every thrust. “I would tie my own noose and let you kick the chair from under me. I would sip poison from your cupped hands, lap it up like a dog at your feet.”

“Sacrifice yourself at my altar,” Will supplies, nearly begging.

“I would let my blood fill your cup and delight in watching it stain your lips as I die,” Hannibal chokes. He can feel his impending orgasm, a tightly coiled beast at the base of his spine. Fingers grip tight into Will’s creamy thighs, sure to leave bruises in the morning. Bruises he will kiss and praise, words of love and devotion whispered into every deep purple mark.

“Ah, Hannibal, c’est bon!” Will cries, free hand fluttering desperately for purchase until he settles on tangling it in his own curls. He's working his cock with abandon now, clear trails of precome smearing along his stomach and hand.

Hannibal leans in, biting viciously at a swollen lower lip. “Come for me, amore,” he growls, using Will’s thighs for leverage as he give a punishing thrust in. His hips are angled just so, the perfect position to press into that bundle of nerves deep inside.

Will, sweet, willful, obedient Will, does as commanded. With a harsh cry he spills onto his chest and stomach, body flushed and glowing with sweat. It isn’t long before Hannibal follows him over the cliff, spilling into the tight heat of his lover.

As he pulls out slowly he notices Will is unresponsive. Delicate eyelashes flutter over rosy cheeks, mouth slack and head back against the pillow. It is thus for a long few moments before Will slowly opens his eyes, a lazy smile gracing his features. 

“Good of you to join me,” Hannibal says fondly, grabbing a tissue to clean them up.

Will hums, stretching. “Mmm. Un petit mort.”

Hannibal shivers, but he is well and truly spent. “Ah. As I would die for you, so you’ll die for me, my darling Will.”

Will’s smile is beatific. “Either way, what bliss.”


End file.
